Let’s revisit Higher Truth, the final album Chris Cornell released during his lifetime, a decade later and reassess what the critics at the time said.
It’s understandable that when you think of Chris Cornell, the first thing that you think of isn’t “solo artist.” He is, after all, the frontman of one of the most iconic bands of the ‘90s Seattle explosion, Soundgarden (who are getting into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame at long last this year).
He also fronted Audioslave, linking up with most of Rage Against the Machine, to form one of the biggest bands of the early ‘00s, as well as his prior credentials in the legendary supergroup Temple of the Dog.
As is the case with so many musicians who branch out with a solo career, whether it’s a full-time shift or part-time project, these individual-based records are often praised by the most dedicated, passionate fans, perhaps heard by the larger masses more out of curiosity than a must-have.
Solo albums also afford artists the opportunity to showcase other areas of their musical ambitions that don’t fit within the framework of their other band(s). This can be at odds with the subjective tastes of fans, as well as critics. But it’s important to revisit records with the benefit of time as our own tastes have changed and the era in which the album was judged upon released has passed by.
Higher Truth, the last album released during Cornell’s lifetime, tells a different story now than the one the critics did 10 years ago with an overall Meta Critic score of 68 out of 100.
About Chris Cornell’s Solo Records Before ‘Higher Truth’
Chris Cornell’s solo records were generally more subtle than what he did with his rock bands. Well, other than his 2009 experimental record Scream, produced by hip-hop mogul Timbaland.
It was a risky record — one that didn’t really pay off commercially or critically — and many of his peers and fans greatly disliked it. While it got a lot of attention, it was unfortunately for the wrong reasons.
His debut, 1999’s Euphoria Mourning, was well respected, but by 2015, when Higher Truth was released, a Chris Cornell solo album was pretty far from the pop culture zeitgeist. Even rock overall way a bit stagnant during this time.
The album was something of a surprise: Soundgarden had reunited 10 years prior and they did some big tours and an overlooked album (2012’s King Animal) between 2010 and 2015.
But Cornell was also developing his singer-songwriter persona during that period with his “Songbook” shows and it was clear that he didn’t have to be either a band guy or a solo artist — he could do both.
READ MORE: How Chris Cornell Changed Soundgarden Bandmates’ Minds About Rock Hall
What Was ‘Higher Truth’ Like?
Cornell expressed his louder, tougher side with Soundgarden on their records and tours. His solo work was more introspective and vulnerable.
In a 2015 Rolling Stone interview, he recalled starting to burn out on louder rock music as far back as 1989. “Every band we toured with was super loud and aggressive with neck tattoos, black sweatshirts, black sweatpants, black sneakers. That’s when I discovered Daniel Johnston’s Songs of Pain. I played it over and over again in the van and then I got into Bruce Springsteen’s Nebraska and Nick Drake’s Pink Moon. They were great palate cleansers.”
You can hear all of those influences, as well as that of Cornell’s late friend Jeff Buckley, on Higher Truth.
It was recorded pretty intimately: Cornell hired producer/multi-instrumentalist Brendan O’Brien with whom he had worked with both Soundgarden and Audioslave. The duo played almost all of the album alone, including drums, with Cornell programming drum loops or O’Brien playing on a small drum kit.
chris cornell, higher truth
It’s not a “band” record – it’s very much a “singer-songwriter album.” He neither needed to adhere to an indie-rock or punk orthodoxy of what instruments or recording techniques were legit to a core audience.
Cornell also wasn’t saying, “I hope you enjoy my new direction!” with a shocking stylistic left turn.
Higher Truth was an honest and relaxed album by a 50-year-old man who was comfortable in his artistic skin.
The Critical Response to ‘Higher Truth’
In 2015, Chris Cornell’s Higher Truth was a record the critics either didn’t pay attention to or they just didn’t get it.
On the “cred” end, they were much more enamored with the likes of Sufjan Stevens and Father John Misty, Drake and Future, Carly Rae Jepsen and Grimes. Their loss.
SPIN rated Cornell’s album a five out of 10, calling it “just out of his grasp” while Rolling Stone was a bit kinder despite awarding Higher Truth just three out of five stars.
Overall, there was a general indifference and an other than being the unfortunate footnote in a tragic story, everyone had moved on after the record’s release.
Revisiting ‘Higher Truth’ Today
Ten years on, the album has the laid-back, timeless sound of a ‘70s singer-songwriter record — think Cat Stevens or Nick Drake. It feels nothing like Soundgarden, Audioslave, or even Temple of the Dog.
Some artists make solo albums just to get away from their bandmates, but that’s not the case here (and by all accounts, Soundgarden got along well during their reunion era).
It works as a complete song cycle — no “skips.”
It’s also worth noting that, when you listen to the album 10 years later, the lyrics can be a bit triggering, knowing how his story ended.
“Before We Disappear” sees Cornell ruminating on mortality, singing, “Time ain’t nothing if it ain’t fast/taking everything you ever had… and giving nothing in return.”
Chris Cornell, “Before We Disappear”
Again, some of this can be difficult to listen to, in hindsight. He also argues that he and his partner should make the most of the time they have to fight for their relationship, in rather unsentimental terms: “If there’s a door to every cell / A pearl inside of every shell / Then how hard could it be to share your life with me.”
“Murderer Of The Blue Skies” is a very different relationship song, where a clearly hurt Cornell leaves someone in his past. “I won’t break / Though I may bend / And I can’t wait to never be with you again / And I can’t wait to lead a life that you’re not in.” It’s a devastating kiss-off, but he never sounds too angry. It’s an adult breakup — he’s done with the situation and he’s moving on.
“Nearly Forgot My Broken Heart” was the album’s first single and most popular song, which happens to be the closest he gets to sounding like Soundgarden. Even so, it has enough separation that it sounds like a modern spaghetti western theme (a theme that was reflected in the video, which has since been taken off of YouTube).
The title track is the album’s centerpiece; Cornell sings about looking for a higher truth over piano, played by guest musician Patrick Warren.
“Higher Truth” starts almost as a gospel song but morphs into a psychedelic jam before descending into static, almost as if he concluded that there was no “higher truth” to be found and that we have to live for the moment.
Chris Cornell, “Higher Truth”
Indeed, the album ends (before the bonus tracks) with “Our Time In The Universe,” where he sings, “I don’t mind if we’re blessed or cursed.”
Final Thoughts on ‘Higher Truth’
When someone who was such a huge part of the zeitgeist in a prior era but no longer is the center of pop culture’s fickle attention span, the vibe among media types is often, “They’re over,” or “What’s the hook?”
But great artists produce great art even when the spotlight is pointed elsewhere.
Sometimes art is about meeting the moment and Cornell did that often with Soundgarden, Temple of the Dog and Audioslave. Other times, art is about saying what you want to say, for whoever is listening.
This album is a great example of the latter.
For those of us who listened to it at the time, we knew Cornell had reached a new peak as a solo artist. Ten years on, the album is beautiful and haunting, just like so much of his greatest music with all his other bands. Higher Truth is a quieter album, but deserves the status of those classics.
And if you missed it in 2015, it’s never too late to check it out now.
